


Like Lightning In A Bottle (I Can't Let You Go)

by stereoslash



Series: Naked Irony [2]
Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-13 04:35:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19243945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stereoslash/pseuds/stereoslash
Summary: Donghyuk could care less about business-related functions, but this one seems more promising than most.





	Like Lightning In A Bottle (I Can't Let You Go)

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first bonus chapter written within the same verse as my double b band au, set a year before the said au's events. It's being hosted on twitter, so if you haven't already, you can read it [here](https://twitter.com/nakedjiwon/status/1108716729281077248?s=21) before you proceed. Title taken from Electric Love by Børns.

The party is boring, but Donghyuk would be lying if he said that he hadn’t expected as much. He’s been to enough functions with _Naked Kisses_ to know how these events work, and with one of the major investors of _Surge_ throwing a party for his forty-ninth birthday, Donghyuk’s attendance is a necessary evil.

He still wishes he could be anywhere other than here, though. It’s a Friday, after all, and one of their rare days off to boot; and if he knows his bandmates at all (which he does — all too well, really), it’s not difficult to assume that Bobby and Jinan are currently in some club or other — letting loose and leaving the week’s schedules well behind them.

He could probably catch up, Donghyuk thinks, before both of them get too wasted to clue him in on their chosen club of the night. He really only needs to stick around for another thirty minutes, having arrived at the party an hour and a half prior, and he’s making his way to the open bar (at least there were free-flowing drinks, Donghyuk thinks, and he’d jump at every opportunity to make the wait just a little bit more bearable) when a slim hand latches around his arm.

Donghyuk turns, a three-letter question alluding to the other male’s identity ready to fall from his lips, but he’s met with pleading eyes and a whispered plea to play along — and so he schools his expression and elects to keep his mouth shut.

“Ah, Donghyuk,” Yang Hyunsuk greets, sidling up to the pair (and Donghyuk _knows_ that he should be grateful to the man for investing in his brand, but no amount of capital would change the fact that there was just something _off_ about Yang). “I see you’ve met Yunhyeong.” he adds, and in Donghyuk’s mind, the pieces finally click.

Song Yunhyeong is a celebrity chef and restaurateur, the face of about fifty brands and a host to at least three different shows that Donghyuk knows of — and Donghyuk would dub him as the Korean Gordon Ramsay if he knows enough about food (which he doesn’t) or if Yunhyeong looks about as short-tempered as Gordon Ramsay himself (which he doesn’t).

“He’s my boyfriend, actually.” Yunhyeong states with a smile, and it’s only due to his years of experience in front of the cameras that Donghyuk is able to keep the shock out of his face.

“Is that so? Donghyuk never mentioned it.” Yang responds, interest piqued; and Donghyuk knows him well enough to note that the tone of his voice is a sure indication of how the older man fully intends to pry.

“It’s still pretty new.” Donghyuk smoothly supplies, winding an arm around Yunhyeong’s waist and watching as Yang’s eyes follow the movement.

“Maybe you’d have better luck in trying to get him to sign with me, then. I’ve been asking for years but he just won’t budge.” Yang grins, trying for humor, but Donghyuk thinks it makes him look like a great white shark more than anything else.

“I would, sir, but I don’t really make a habit out of telling him what to do. I’d rather he did what he absolutely wanted to.” Donghyuk responds with a smile of his own.

“I see.” the man nods, looking none too pleased, and Donghyuk feels Yunhyeong slump in relief as Yang excuses himself to greet some guest or other.

“Thank you.” Yunhyeong sighs, the curve of his lips equal parts grateful and exhausted as they break apart. “You have no idea how much I owe you right now.”

“Tell me why you’re running from Yang and you won’t owe me anything at all.” comes Donghyuk’s reply, and he’s unable to keep the playful air out of his tone as he leads the two of them to the party’s open bar (which he had been heading for just a few minutes prior).

“It’s just like he said, really.” Yunhyeong shrugs, flagging down the bartender for a drink. “He’s been wanting to manage me for ages. I know that his agency is a lot bigger than the one I’m currently signed to, but I’ve been there for years and it suits me just fine. Besides, there’s just something — _strange_ about Yang. I can’t put my finger on it. I wouldn’t really feel safe if I had to be alone with that guy.” he sounds increasingly sheepish as he goes on, seemingly ashamed to voice his worries out loud, so Donghyuk hums to indicate that he understands and does his best to put the other male at ease.

“I know what you mean,” he agrees, nodding empathetically, “he’s one of my brand’s most important investors — that’s really the only reason I’m here tonight — but I don’t like talking to him any more than I have to. Something about him just doesn’t feel right.”

Yunhyeong seems glad to find that they’re on the same page, Donghyuk notes; and he watches, amused, as the chef’s eyes widen in realisation.

“Brand? Which one? And oh! I haven’t really introduced myself. I just saw him coming my way and — I get really dumb when I panic, I’m sorry.” Yunhyeong breathes, lips curling upwards in a sheepish smile. “I’m Yunhyeong. Song Yunhyeong. I guess I’m kind of a chef?”

“You ‘ _guess_ ’. I think you’re underselling yourself, Korean Gordon Ramsay.” Donghyuk jests, figuring he might as well make a joke out of his passing thought before shaking the male’s proffered hand with a chuckle. “Kim Donghyuk. I’m kind of in a band, I guess? It’s called _Naked Kisses_ and my clothing brand is _Surge_.”

“ _Now_ look who’s selling himself short. You act like you guys hadn’t won a bunch of awards just last year.”

“Hey, if Korean Gordon Ramsay can find it in himself to be humble, then so can I.”

“I’m not Korean Gordon Ramsay, _please_.”

The conversation flows freely from there, and soon enough, Donghyuk forgets that he’s been itching to escape the party as soon as he had arrived. He’s really only reminded of this when his phone lights up with a notification — a message about a fabricated work-related emergency that he had told Mino to send once he’s been in the party for two hours (Donghyuk would never admit it out loud, but Mino’s pretty damn great as far as managers go).

“Oh,” Yunhyeong starts, having taken notice of Donghyuk’s screen, “do you have to go?”

“Not really. I just told my manager to message me in two hours so I’d have an excuse to leave.” Donghyuk explains, tucking his phone back into the pocket of his jeans. “We can go now, though, if you want. I haven’t eaten since this morning and I don’t really want to speak to Yang again.”

“I’m pretty hungry myself, and I know just the place. They sell the best kimchi-jjigae I’ve ever tasted.”

Donghyuk feigns an exaggerated gasp then, one hand clutching at his chest. “Song Yunhyeong’s kimchi-jjigae is inferior? The horror!”

“I won’t tell if you won’t.” Yunhyeong grins, and Donghyuk finds the corners of his own mouth quirking upwards in return.

“Sounds like a deal.”


End file.
